


Beyond the Edge

by arixng



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Laviyuu Week 2018, M/M, Smut, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 12:37:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14136195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arixng/pseuds/arixng
Summary: He doesn’t know how his voice sounds like. He doesn’t know his likes, dislikes, or what kind of attitude he has. He doesn’t even know his name. He laughs bitterly at how lonely he is to be this drawn over a person he just encounters by the sea.





	Beyond the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4: Lightning | Darkness, Energy, Danger, Tension, Evanescent

There were times when his feet would start moving, taking him repeatedly to the same place after work. He’d only realize where his legs were taking him when the air is cold and damp, and the smell of salt scrunched up his nose. He’d face the direction of powerful crashing waves, now awake him from his daze, and he’d be hit full force by the beauty of the sea.

 

There were times when he’d sit in the bus stop facing the picturesque scenery. There were times when he’d walk the distance and let his feet sink into the sand, letting the soothing mix of powder and silk get stuck between his toes. Deep breaths filled his lungs with serenity and clean air; the peace and tranquility brought by erratic waters an impossible dream the city cannot offer. He enjoyed the minimalism of life and disturbances of the ocean. So he lets his mind wander and his feet take him there every chance it gets.

  
  
  
  
  


Spring doesn’t seem to exist where he lived. Dreary skies and constant rainfall serves as the backdrop to his bleak life. What a dream it is to move somewhere else, somewhere less monotonous and filled with life and color. He’s seen a lot of movies depicting people living the ‘perfect’ life, and it dawned to him when he finished his studies how farfetched and unrealistic a lot of them can be.  _ Do your best. Hardwork is the key to success. Dream big.  _ Not when he’s practically a genius living off of below average income.  What’s keeping him sane are his ‘true’ friends, which can be counted with one hand. And maybe the ocean nearby too. 

 

It’s a Thursday afternoon and Lavi’s just had a hectic day. His client had a terrible mood for someone at the wrong position in the first place, and he had to stay at a later time to sort things out. He doesn’t care whether its late, an hour where he’s supposed to be at home microwaving his dinner and falling asleep on his couch. What he needs is a moment of silence to ease his mind and body. A moment where he can leave his empty flat. The melodic crashing of waves to silence the voices in him. His initial plan was to sit in the bus stop and watch the waters from there, but the waves were calling him, pulling him closer. 

 

The sand is soft and sinks under his weight. Some of them get in his dress shoes but he doesn’t mind. He closes his eye as the wind blows stronger, red hair tousled and free. He raises his arms, opening himself to the sea breeze, tilting his head backwards and just wanting to  _ let go.  _

 

His moment is shattered when he senses another presence behind him. Turning his head quickly, a shock of red comes into his line of sight. Walking along the edge of the water is a man around his age, skin a pale ivory and long beautiful locks blowing gracefully with the breeze. In his hand is a small red umbrella. 

 

It’s like he’s admiring a painting, Lavi imagines. Vivid red on dreary blues, a striking contrast. And a subject so beautiful, so  _ striking,  _ he is without a doubt a delicate sculpture from the gods. Warmth spreads throughout his cheeks with the recollection of his dramatic rush. God, he must have looked like an idiot standing with his arms spread out alone. 

 

The man walks on, paying no attention to the only other person in the area. Lavi wants to say something, even just a little greeting. But he stops when the man passes him by. No sound is carried with the wind when he sees eyes as blue and melancholic as the sea before them.

 

That night, Lavi walks back home feeling both dismal and inspired. An odd combination that confuses himself too. But his feet feels lighter than ever when he walks up to his small apartment. 

  
  
  
  
  


Three days after his silent encounter with the blue-haired asian, he sees him again. With the same red umbrella. This time, Lavi’s seated on the sand with his laptop resting on his thighs. He had work to do, unfortunately, and he would rather not do it at home where silence is too loud. He decided he could spend the afternoon here and work at an environment that could balance the stress. But the intention backfires slightly when he gets distracted by the long haired man, now clad in a tan coat and a navy scarf.  He watches him walk along the edge of the water like last time, eyes downcast to the sand and thin lips downturned. 

 

Lavi’s fingers start drawing on the sand. He draws a smiley face and wonders what the man would look like without a frown. He doesn’t know the man. Never uttered a word to him the moment he laid his eye on him. But somehow, he imagines himself painting that smile on his face someday. Yet, no matter how many times he comes back to the ocean, no matter how many times the man with his red umbrella stands in front of the blue shores, he cannot disturb the picture in front of him. 

 

He sees him again and again, day by day. At the hour when both the sun and the moon meet. But the long haired beauty doesn’t see him. Or maybe he doesn’t want to acknowledge his presence, Lavi suspects. Every time, blue eyes mirror the water he gazes at for too long. 

  
  
  
  
  


How ridiculous it is to be sighing over a person he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how his voice sounds like. He doesn’t know his likes, dislikes, or what kind of attitude he has. He doesn’t even know his  _ name _ . He laughs bitterly at how lonely he is to be this drawn over a person he just encounters by the sea. His heart is convincing him that two lonely hearts can attract. But how can he listen to his heart when the number of failed relationships and desperate one night stands is too much for him to remember. 

  
  
  
  


The bitter smile is still plastered on his face when his friend and colleague places a cup of hot coffee on his desk. “Something on your mind?” Allen draws his attention away from his own thoughts. He notes the concern poorly hidden under chrome irises. The white haired man moves away the folders on his desk and sits on its place. 

 

“Just distracted is all.” he answers. He carefully removes the lid of the cup and lets the contents cool. 

 

A knock from the door signals Lavi’s client. Allen slaps him on the back and wishes him good luck before he returns to his own office. When the cause of his next headache sits on the seat in front of his desk, his eye is drawn to a light coming from his left side. A message from Allen flashes through the screen and he discretely reads it under his desk when his client isn’t facing him. 

 

_ The usual at 9? _

 

A laugh almost escapes him at his suggestion. Leaning back on his worn-out chair, he cracks his knuckles and waits for the clock to tick on. May he find a good distraction that could wrench his mind away over his wretched life.  

 

And so he did upon grabbing his coat and heading out to the club he often frequents with Allen, back when they had time to spare and extra energy to be discharged. He doesn’t remember when the flashing lights had become an eyesore. Or when the loud deafening music had started to aggravate his headache, the heavy vibrations of the beat punching him in the gut. He kind of wants to vomit. He takes another swig of the piss colored concoction in his hand and falls onto the shoulder of the lone person on his right. The man takes the glass off his hand before it shatters on the floor. “You okay?” the voice is so close to his ear, breath tingling his skin and sending a shiver up his spine. Lavi nods. He looks up to find the source of the voice and squints at the neon lights behind the blurred figure. His vision clears to peculiar gold eyes, tanned skin, and dark curled locks pushed back. Attractive.That was something Lavi could conclude even in his intoxicated state. Coherency has left him; his arms wrap around a torso hard and strong even under layers of clothing. Lavi grins, immediately hard at the jackpot in front of him. 

 

Lavi doesn’t know how he managed to travel all the way to the man’s place. No memory of how he got up to the second floor and got to his bed. All he knows is now. Now with his body getting rammed from behind, the sound of the bed creaking, skin slapping against skin, and something wet drowning out his own moans. His fingers are gripping onto the sheets so tightly that they’re about to tear.  _ Fuck, fuck!  _ He can’t hear himself or the man pounding into him so deep and hard. He needs release, -needs to let loose and let go of the confusing ache in his chest. He buries his face into the pillow when the man fucks him faster, deeper, and it doesn’t take too long for him to reach his climax. 

 

Lavi comes hard and long. Ivory skin and deep blue eyes flashes in his mind before he sees white. 

 

Lavi immediately leaves the place, the mess that he is. 

 

He remembers the light feathery touches to his neck, and he vomits on the sidewalk. 

  
  
  
  
  


His hangover the following morning isn’t as horrible as what he would have expected. The throbbing in his head is tolerable and his body doesn’t topple over when he walks around his flat. But the ache transfers to his chest. Sometimes, Lavi imagines himself ripping it out of him. 

 

It happens again and again. Sleeping on a bed that isn’t his. He focuses on the sweet rapture, ignoring the seething voices in his head. He just needs to waste the night here, find solace in strong arms wrapped around his body and fucking him into pristine white sheets. He gets up before the sun rises and walks back reluctantly to his own home. 

  
  
  
  


On a chilly morning, he tries to forget the couch and lay on his bed. But it fails after hours of restless shifting on sheets that have become unfamiliar. Lavi shoves the covers away and stands, putting on his coat and his shoes and heads to his peace and quiet. The sound of the waves and the spring breeze is what he needs. Not the terrifying silence in his flat, where he could almost hear his own heartbeat and the voices in his head. 

 

The long haired man comes today too. When Lavi arrives, the man is sitting by the edge, bare feet touched by the gentle waters that disappear into the sand. His shoes are nowhere in Lavi’s sight but the red umbrella is on the sand right beside him. His hair is unbound today, dark silky ink cascading down his back and falling just above his hips. His side is facing Lavi, and from his position, the length of his eyelashes are evident even from a distance. What a fool he is, Lavi thinks, for allowing an image of pure beauty to flash at a moment of carnal heat and pleasure. At a moment so desperate that he deems himself pitiful. 

 

When the air becomes colder and sky turns shades closer to night, the man stands up from the sand. He doesn’t look back at the sea, expression hard and stance rigid. Lavi watches as he heads back to paved ground. He notices the umbrella left on the sand. Before his mind processes the situation and forces him to stay on his spot, his long legs run to the shore. 

 

“Excuse me!” his hoarse voice rips out of his throat. He realizes he never uttered a single word the whole day. He shouts out again to catch the other’s attention. He’s unprepared for the moment the man faces him. Ocean eyes meet Lavi’s jade; his lips turn dry and his heart hammers in his ribcage. 

 

“What?” he asks, voice a pleasant baritone despite the firm tone behind it. Lavi brings forward the red umbrella and he doesn’t miss the perturbed look in his face. “You left this.” The umbrella doesn’t move from his hands. The long haired man stares at it, troubled eyes slightly wider than before, looking as if the object was a ghost. Before Lavi could ask anything, the man turns around, long legs walking away in haste. 

 

The umbrella ends up in his flat, perched on top of his desk. 

 

It’s hard to wrench his eye away from the bright object laying on the same surface as his treasured books. Lavi has never used his desk for work, preferring his most valued written works to be piled up and scattered on it. It’s an organized mess that helps in keeping him even just a little bit sane. 

 

When he returns to the ocean the next day, he only remembers the umbrella he has to return half way from leaving his flat. But it doesn’t matter. That afternoon, the man doesn’t come. 

  
  
  
  


Everything seems a shade greyer. Somehow, Lavi likes to imagine nature mimicking his frame of mind. He can’t shake away the disappointment that weighs him down. His steps become heavier when sand turns into concrete. When the bus stop comes into sight, he slumps down on the empty bench under the waiting shed. He doesn’t want to go back to his home, if he could call it that. Not yet. He’s not ready for the loud silence. The grey skies turning into night is a better scenery than plain cream walls, the sea becoming an endless void of darkness that could fuse with the sky more tolerable than dim flickering lights. No stars were out tonight.

 

One day of waiting at the bus stop facing the ocean becomes a routine. The sand doesn’t seem too welcoming anymore, a lone person such as him being its only occupant almost an offense to its sublimity. Slumber nearly takes him every time he lets the hours pass by. 

 

Four days of sitting on vacant benches have passed. Lavi laughs. Everything is empty. The seats, the road behind him, the beach in front of him. Himself. And maybe the invisible man standing in front of the endless blue. 

 

The tendrils of emptiness curls over and into his heart. It takes all his pride and resolve not to visit the dark skinned man from the other week that night. But that pride and resolve breaks anyway the following day. It’s pathetic. It’s not even an hour into the night when Lavi’s being held on a bed that isn’t his again. He’s so close to being the breakable toy he knows he already has become. 

 

When they’re done, the man offers Lavi to stay for tea. The turndown isn’t a surprise. The redhead looked too close to breaking down after all. He lets him go.  He offers Lavi an umbrella before he steps out into the heavy rainfall. But the smaller man shakes his head, too eager to leave. From his window, he watches the man trudging through the rain with his head down, blending with the dark storm. 

 

The rainwater seeping everywhere through his clothes is uncomfortable. His pants are clinging to his skin, hair clumping and sticking to his face. Shoes a wet mess as it sloshes through the rain. It feels good. Like a shower cleansing away the filth all the way under his skin. But his mind is a muddle of self-deprecation and regret eating him away inside out. 

There must be a storm, Lavi thinks, for the rain is ceaseless and persists to grow stronger. When his wet worn out self sits under the bus stop for the fifth time that week, the wind starts to pick up; Lavi wants to be blown away. He half-watches the ominous grey scenery slowly turning into a raging torrent, the storm riling up the agitated water and bringing it over the imagined edge. 

 

He almost doesn’t see the dark figure approaching the looming surges. Like him, the figure was like a shadow blending with the stormy sea and sky. Once he recognizes who the shadow is, he knows he should be happy. He knows how much the memory of long dark locks billowing in the wind has been in the deep corners of his mind, showing up on sleepless nights where he stares at the dark ceiling above. He knows how he forgets how to breathe every time he sees him. Thinks of him. Imagines him. He remembers how how tight his chest felt when sodalite eyes met his solitary jade one. How his throat felt dry and his skin cold, lead-like legs rooted by the sand. How he feels things he shouldn’t over a stranger he simply passes by. 

 

Funny, how he appears when Lavi’s heart is hollow. 

 

Like always, he watches from afar. Without the red umbrella, Lavi’s sure the man is completely soaked to the bones. Cold, freezing, minutes away to hypothermia. But Lavi doesn’t stand up from his seat. He doesn’t remember how long he’s seated under the bus stop, or how long the man has been rooted to his spot. He watches but he doesn’t completely see. The rain is so strong it veils everything into a blur. 

 

A blinding spark splits the sky and threatens to touch the earth. A deafening blast follows. 

 

Suddenly, the world moves fast. 

 

The figure moves farther away from Lavi’s view, coming closer and closer to the violent waters. Shoes submerge under water, then his ankles, knees, thighs. Another strike of deadly lightning pierces from the heavy grey sky leaving Lavi’s vision momentarily white. The next thing he sees causes him to jump out of his seat and dart into the storm.

 

He runs as fast as his legs can take him, air leaving his lungs as he tears through the rain. The dark haired man is slowly disappearing into the turbulent ocean, the surface rising up to his torso. But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop moving forward into the endless unknown willing to wash him away from the earth. Lavi knows what the man is attempting to do. And he knows he won’t forgive himself if he doesn’t interfere with the image this time. 

 

His heart is beating so erratically when he dives into the sea to find the other body. Lavi knows his body is nothing against the force of the waves, but he doesn’t give up even when the cold is numbing his senses and his whole being is threatening to collapse and be washed away. 

 

He loses sight of the other man. Lavi pushes through the currents in haste. He screams even when he can’t be heard through the raging storm. He screams because he’s terrified of the forming image in his head of a pale lifeless body floating in the water. He doesn’t see the incoming wave that hits him full force, nearly drowning him as he’s helpless. He comes back up to the surface, gasps for air, and then he sees him. 

 

Just an arm’s width away is the back of a dark haired head. Exhaustion leaves Lavi’s body and he swims to the other man, hauling his body away from the waves and back to the shore. He tries to erase the deathly pale face from his memory as he fights them through the waves, screaming when he remembers the red umbrella he needs to return perched on top of his desk back in a home that just isn’t. He doesn’t hear the roar of thunder from above. 

 

When his feet finds the sand and their bodies arise from the waters, Lavi wraps his arms around the man’s cold body. They collapse on the sand and gasp desperately for air. He doesn’t want to move. Not after his body is drained from the terrifying fight against nature. But then the person he saved could be in critical condition so he wills himself to sit up, albeit raggedly. When he could see the rise and fall of the chest in front of him, a sigh of relief escapes him.

 

“Hey” he calls out with a voice hoarse from the struggle. The man doesn’t respond, merely curling into himself as he greedily catches his breath. Giving him time to collect himself, Lavi moves away the damp dark locks covering his face and is met with half-lidded hazy blue eyes. His pale lips are parted like he wants to say something  -he could see the struggle from how badly he was shivering, but the look in his eyes were enough for Lavi. Gently, he hoists both of them up on unsteady legs, wrapping his arms around the trembling and weakened form. Then he leads them to take cover under the bus stop where they wait for the rain to stop.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


In the end the rain doesn’t cease. It’s only when the downpour subsides as best as it can that Lavi leads them to his apartment. 

 

Not a single word is spoken even until they step foot into the small flat. Lavi turns on the heating and leaves him for a short while in the living room to get towels. When he returns, the man has dropped to the floor in front of the couch. Lavi offers him his shower but the shivering man is too enervated to stand on his legs. Instead of helping him up, he offers him spare clothes and a thick blanket as well before he settles beside him. Empty blue eyes merely stare at the soft green towel laid in front of him. 

 

Lavi starts. “If you’re not going to shower, you might as well dry yourself you know.” He starts toweling his red hair as if convincing the other man to do the same. Lavi sighs because no response comes after a while. He briefly wonders if he has to towel dry the other for him before he catches a cold. But then those vacant sodalite eyes rise to meet his. 

 

“You don’t know me.” 

 

The quiet and low voice stops Lavi’s hands from rubbing his hair dry. Lavi’s left to gape at the man before him, not knowing what to make of his expression. Exhausted. Weary. Despondent. The man was just walking right to his death moments ago. And now he’s concerned about a stranger’s worry and good will. Lavi sighs. “I don’t know you either. But I’m not just gonna watch someone drown to death.” He sees the man open his mouth to utter something back but nothing comes out. He lowers his head and his lithe fingers accept the towel to dry his hair. At that, Lavi stands up to change his clothes and prepare warm tea. 

 

He leaves the man in silence and to his own thoughts. Lavi tries to take his time in boiling water and preparing the tea., pacing back and forth, unsure of what to do and say to the person in his living room. Although his body feels used up from fighting against persistent waves, he can’t help but feel on edge. Death was knocking on his door after all. Up to now, the rain outside his window still hasn’t stopped. Lavi’s knees nearly give when he remembers the image of a pale body about to sink underwater. 

 

Returning to his living room, he sees the man, now sitting on the couch, changed into the spare clothes and has the thick blanket hanging on his sides. He doesn’t notice Lavi approaching until he clears his throat and places the tray of tea on the low coffee table. “So,” with one word, Lavi’s voice quivers. He clears his throat once more. “I’m Lavi. You are?” He sits on the spot next to the man who’s apprehension becomes visible when he suddenly moves back to the arm of the couch. Lavi pretends not to notice and offers the teacup. 

  
  


“Kanda.”

  
  


Something in Lavi’s core jumps at finally having a name to the beautiful face. 

 

Kanda takes the tea from Lavi’s hands. But the cup shakes and clatters against the saucer, some of the content spilling on the small plate. The warm beverage is taken away from unsteady hands and settled back on the table. Although he tries to appear calm, Lavi knows Kanda is still frozen and on edge. The smaller man brings his legs up to his chest, arms wrapping the blanket more securely around his frame. “Do you have anyone I can contact?” Lavi asks. Immediately, Kanda shakes his head and hides his face on the top of his knees, refusing to meet Lavi’s eye. After that, he doesn’t move or say another word. Taking a deep breath, Lavi rises from the seat and gives him space. He places another blanket around Kanda’s body before he retreats to his room. 

 

That night, Lavi passes out and for the first time since forever and falls asleep on his bed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He can’t breathe. His body feels a hundred times heavier as he struggles to rise back up.  Down,  _ down, down,  _ to terrifying depths he goes, shrouded by dark shadows that cloud his mind with fear. It’s like his leg is caught in a whirlpool that forces him to grab onto nothing, arms struggling to find the surface that is farther and farther away as each second passes by. 

 

He remembers what people say about the last moments until death. How their lives flash in front of them before their last breaths. Lavi knows he’s in that very moment. But nothing comes into mind. No one gives him solace in his last moments of trial. It’s futile, he thinks, to continue fighting when there’s nothing for him above. He laughs at how pathetic he has become. He ceases his struggle against the hands of death and lets go. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A bright light shines from the distant surface. Somehow, an arm reaches out to him, grabs his wrist, and then he’s pulled up to the surface. 

 

Lavi wakes up gasping for air. 

  
  
  
  
  


He’s relieved to see that Kanda hadn’t run off somewhere and is lying on his couch still asleep. He disappears first into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. It takes awhile for him to recall how to create such a simple meal since he doesn’t remember the last morning he had a proper one. While he’s waiting for the eggs to cook on the pan, he feels a presence behind his back. The corners of his lips rise when he sees the dark haired man behind the countertop. Finally, his legs are steady and able to support him properly. 

 

“You okay now?” Lavi asks as he eyes the sleeves of his grey sweatshirt reaching up to Kanda’s knuckles. Kanda nods his head, the exhaustion and weariness less evident from the day before. His eyes widen slightly when he sees the meal Lavi is preparing. “I should go.” he says. Surprise shows in Lavi’s face but it disappears immediately once he understands Kanda’s abruptness. “Stay. For breakfast, at least. Also, your clothes are still kinda wet and I don’t mind you waiting while they dry.” Kanda pauses like he’s contemplating it, then he mutters a thanks under his breath and sits in front of the countertop. 

 

How peculiar it is, Lavi thinks, that the shared silence between him and this man, this  _ stranger,  _ is less of a strangle than when he is alone.  Even when they eat in silence, it isn’t as awkward as how he would have imagined the scene to go. But as much as he appreciates the welcoming peace and quiet, the question in his head since the day before still lingers. Although he doesn’t want to pry, he at least wants to know the reason behind their fatal encounters with the ocean during a perilous storm. The words are lost in his head. The right words won’t string together and only one word comes out of his mouth.

 

“Why?”

 

The fork and knife held in Kanda’s grasp stop. Lavi’s sure Kanda knows what he’s referring to. The man refuses to meet his eye again. His body language was becoming easy to perceive. “You don’t have to tell me now. But..” He places his hand on top of Kanda’s lighter ones. 

 

“..although we don’t know each other too familiarly, I want you to know that I’m here. For you.” He doesn’t expect Kanda to respond. Lavi resumes to his meal. 

 

Kanda doesn’t touch his breakfast after that. 

  
  
  
  
  


It’s 9:30 in the morning of a gloomy monday but Lavi doesn’t bother to think about his work. He might as well just call in sick. The sound of the shower running from the other door proves the other presence in the house aside from him. Since Kanda’s clothes were nearly dry enough to be worn, he offered him his shower to wash up and indulge in the warm water. 

 

It’s been a long while since he’s brought someone else to his home, Lavi realizes. He never bothered to invite anyone over. Not even his closest friend Allen. He’s also usually the one who sleeps over in the places of his past flings and one night stand. 

 

Somehow, Lavi wants to get used to this. He wants to get used to another living presence in his home. He wants to get used to a home that doesn’t make him feel alone and empty anymore. Hopefully, someday he’d find someone who could make him feel whole again. 

 

The door of his bathroom disrupts him from his thoughts to reveal Kanda in his white bathrobe. He look genuinely calm now. Traces of the anguish from yesterday is gone. 

 

“Better?” Lavi asks. Kanda nods and walks toward the bed where Lavi sits. He could see the long haired man struggling for words, lips bitten from what must be frustration. “You’re welcome.” Lavi replies for him. He pats the space beside him to let Kanda sit. From there, he attempts to lighten up the mood by asking him about himself. Things like  _ you’re from around here? How old are you? Where do you work? Are you Japanese? What’s your first name?  _ He catches the small twitch of displeasure from Kanda’s eye and apologizes for his barrage of questions. Despite his poorly hidden discomfort, Kanda answers anyway. It was the least he could do. 

 

“By the way, I still have this.” Lavi rises from the bed and walks to his desk, picking up the red umbrella from the clutter. “Might forget to return it to you.” 

 

The red umbrella is handed in front of Kanda who freezes on his bed. His face instantly turns as white as a sheet and his blue eyes widen at the object. “Kanda-”

 

“Throw it away!” The umbrella is knocked out of his hold, dropping to the floor with a loud thump and rolling toward the wall. Stunned, Lavi is frozen on his spot and watches Kanda failing to regain his composure. His breathing is labored like he’s going to faint, legs pulled up to his chest and trembling as he tries to move away from the redhead. His expression is haunting, something he would have seen back then in the ocean. 

 

“Kanda?” His hands are up in the air to prove that he won’t hurt him as he gradually comes closer to the panicking form. “Kanda, breathe.” Gently, he holds onto trembling shoulders and hushes him to calm down. Guiding him with numbers, he helps him back to steady breathing while he caresses his head, being as soothing as he can. 

 

It takes a long while but the shivers eventually die down and Kanda’s breathing becomes as normal as it can be. At some point, Kanda had hidden his face on Lavi’s shoulder. His body becomes limp which makes it easier to lie him down on the bed. It’s only when Kanda’s finally stable that Lavi realizes how fast his own heart thumps in his chest. 

  
  
  
  
  


Eventually, everything comes flowing out of Kanda’s mouth. 

 

Alma was his name. 

 

Alma with his bright red umbrella who met Kanda on a rainy spring day. 

 

Alma who stole Kanda’s cold heart and promised him an eternity. 

 

Alma who followed the ocean’s call and drowned himself until his last breath. 

 

Alma who broke a promise and broke Kanda’s heart. 

 

And Kanda, who after all this time treasured the umbrella to remember Alma, tried to be strong but got pulled in by the torrents of his long suppressed emotions. 

 

Tragic -was the first word Lavi could think of once Kanda had pulled himself together. And for Kanda who was obviously inept in facing his emotions and properly handling internal turmoil, Lavi tried to be strong as well as he listens to a story bottled in for over a year. 

 

But when Kanda excuses himself for his inconvenience and proposes to go, an aching loneliness wells up in Lavi. Grabbing the thin wrist, he begs in desperation for Kanda to stay. His lips tremble and his eye turns glassy, and then its Kanda’s turn to ask him  _ why? _

  
  
  
  
  
  


Loneliness in Lavi comes in the form of mock trust, empty relationships, and fake smiles. 

 

Loneliness in Kanda comes in the form of his previous love’s body swallowed up by the ocean. 

 

They were nothing but strangers on the same bed trying to heal from angry waters. Trying to swim back to the surface and breathe life back into their lungs. 

 

Maybe, just maybe, the ocean pulled two lonely hearts together to make them beat properly again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how all this drama and angst stemmed out from a pure song and music video. I just wanted to use the image of someone walking by the beach with a red umbrella and the bus stop and then this happened. (the mv is mata atta kudasai by nagahama neru and i am laughing at myself as I watch it again after writing this) 
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading! Hopefully I finish the fic for day 5 by tomorrow!


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